Thursday, April 26, 2012

An oft stated mantra of marketing in the Indian context is "Jo dikhega, woh bikega" (That which is seen, will sell)

No one knows this better than the beggars on Mumbai's streets. (In the interests of political correctness, perhaps I should use something which sounds better - how about Livelihood-challenged?)

The regulars learn their lessons fast and quick, for the city is ruthless at weeding out the inefficient, be it billionaire or destitute.

Wounds are not covered or stowed away discreetly. They hit you in the eye, in your face, bared for display; Just the right amount of gore to stimulate your lachrymal glands (C'mon sonny, show me some more of that burnt skin, that deformed stump where an arm should have been; I want value for my money)

Old and disabled? Give.
Child? (depends - but its all a racket, you know, there are these dadas who teach them to beg..)
Eunuch? (Uhhh...How intimidating is he...she...whatever...)
Glazed eyes? (Uh-oh! Drug addict, only food, no cash)
Arbit stuff seller? (Give, at least hes not really begging)
Car wiper (Ditto, but fast: Don't want him to spoil the windshield)

Signal about to turn green; Quickly now; If its fated he will get it...

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Some believe that PJs are a contemptible form of indulgence, a crude titillation for under-evolved senses of humour.

I beg to differ.

Creating a sublime PJ requires the dexterity of an artist, an eye for opportunity, a proclivity for semantic gymnastics that few can aspire to or achieve.

No word, event, situation, news or remark passes the PJ cracker by without scrutiny.

A PJ cracker is a humour entrepreneur, always excited by opportunity, by combinations, looking beyond the obvious to see what can be...

And then springs forth the perfect PJ, enrapturing all in its wake;In
one climactic moment of epiphany, when the entire gathering of
unwilling listeners stands stunned at the spectacle that just unfolded.